


The Songbird and the Wolf

by totemwolfie



Series: Demons of Ironwood [10]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alpha werewolf, Blood, Childhood Friends, Confessions, Elf, Gay, Gay Sex, Lots of kissing, M/M, Old Friends, Omega Heat, PWP, Porn with Feelings, Rewrite, Short Story, Sidhe, Werewolf, alpha and omega, demons of ironwood, heat - Freeform, nontraditional abo, omega elf, very short story, with not that much porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:06:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25232101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totemwolfie/pseuds/totemwolfie
Summary: Wren starts having vivid dreams of his childhood home.  When he ventures back there, he finds himself in the territory of a powerful alpha werewolf.  But this werewolf may not be the stranger Wren thinks he is.
Series: Demons of Ironwood [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1117452
Comments: 14
Kudos: 89





	The Songbird and the Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> I had completely forgotten that I had taken this down to retwrite it, because I hated the way I originally ended it. I can't say that the rewrite is much better. But I really like these two, and I might have to write about them again. I think they could get their own book, but I've been struggling a lot lately so I'm not going to promise anything. Thanks for reading xoxo

Wren couldn't believe his stupid, worthless lack of luck. All he had to do was follow the road through the forest. That was it. Follow the road like every other person who passed through this way. The Old Forest of Eire was haunted (or so the rumors told,) Otherkin couldn't trace in or out of it, it was also _full_ of werewolves. But the road had always been safe to travel; the forest spirits didn't bother a person if they stayed on it, and the werewolves, well, the pack owned the entire Eire and lived in mansions on the tallest hills and held all hunting rights to the forest and ruled over the surrounding towns. As long as you stayed on the road and didn't hunt their prey, they didn't wouldn't come after you. 

Normally the road was congested with traders and townsfolk traveling back and forth between the local markets and home, but at this time of night Wren found himself traveling alone. He was crossing the country by foot; he had a single backpack on his back, and a short sword on his hip. His cell phone's battery had died yesterday which left him without music, so he had started to sing to himself. 

It had all been going well, until he had heard what he thought was a baby crying. Wren had stopped and listened, knowing that if he left the safety of the road he would be vulnerable to whatever creatures haunted the forest. But… if there was a child out there in danger, then he had no choice but to go out there, didn’t he?

Drawing his sword he stepped off the road and made his way through leaf litter and fallen branches, while moving around trees. The only light he had to guide him was the moonlight which could barely penetrate the forest canopy far above him. 

The cries grew suddenly quiet and Wren stopped with a frown.

"Hello?" he asked softly. "Is someone there? Do you need--" His words ended in a scream as he stepped into a pile of leaves and something snapped shut on his feet, teeth digging through flesh and to bone. He crumpled to the ground, dropping his sword and collapsing on his back. Above him a group of bats flew off, their chirps sounding very much like a baby. 

Wren sat up, tears running down his face and body shaking with pain. He could only stare at the massive large steel trap that had clamped it’s teeth into his ankle, nearly severing his foot. The pain was shocking, and he saw black spots before his eyes. But he couldn’t pass out, if he did, he would certainly die. There were creatures out here that would absolutely eat him, and he had no way to defend himself. He had no magical talents and had no power to spare. He needed to stay awake and aware.

But all he wanted to do was scream in pain. So he did.

"Fuck--fuck!" he sobbed. He tried to pry that trap’s mouth open, but he only cut his fingers on the teeth and caused it to sink deeper into flesh and bone. He tried again and again, but soon his hands were too bloody to even get a grip. Blood was starting to pool beneath him, staining old leaves red and making the dirt look black.

He tried to stay calm as he weighed his options. Which were very few and far between.

He looked over his shoulder but the road was out of view. If he was lucky someone would come along and if he yelled for help they might hear him, but would they even leave the road to find him? No! Because you weren’t supposed to leave the fucking road!

Wren looked for and picked up his sword from where he had dropped it when he fell. He attempted to pry the trap's mouth open with it, and when that failed, he honestly thought about just severing his foot. But it wouldn't grow back, and he would just bleed out even faster. Hopelessness started to wash over him and he choked on another cry.

He dropped the sword and tore at his hair with his bloody hands. He needed to calm down and think. He had to try to slow the bleeding. He had to figure out a way to signal for help and pray that there was someone who would actually help him and not just kill him, or rob and leave him. 

But all he wanted to do was scream again, because it hurt so fucking much.

That’s when he heard it.

Heavy footsteps in the leaves and slow, steady breathing. Wren twisted around, green eyes wide and searching the shadows for anything that was moving. He knew the stories of the Old Forest, he had grown up hearing them, had grown up around his forest, but that was three-hundred years ago. He remembered little, but he knew that the spirits were the least of his problems, and it was the predators he had to worry about. He snatched up his sword, which shook in his bloody hands.

When a ten-foot monster stepped out from behind a tree, he sucked in a gasp and flinched. He struggled to keep the sword up in warning, but it was shaking in his hands and it wasn’t even sure if he could keep a proper grip with how slippery his hands were.

The monster was a werewolf. Most likely this trap had been set to catch it. It was a stupid thing to do, werewolves were nearly unstoppable when they were in their bipedal wolf body, most alphas were over ten-feet tall and all muscle and heavy fur. They had large teeth and claws, and were agile and fast. They were the perfect predator. 

It wasn't a full moon that night, but werewolves had long ago evolved past needing the moon’s fluctuation to transform between bodies, and they didn't need to bite humans to keep their species going either. The werewolf family who ruled over the Eire lived in large mansions in the hills, so what was this one doing out here in the middle of the night?

Wren swallowed down a mouthful of bile. He'd known a werewolf family once, when he was a small child and lived in a tiny cottage with his mother not far from this part of the Eire.

The werewolf circled him from a distance, staying in the shadows. Wren could only keep track of it's movements by listening for its soft steps and following the movement of its glowing white eyes. He sucked in a breath as it stopped to sniff the air, a low rumble coming from its chest.

"Can you help me?" he finally asked. He tried to keep his voice steady, but it came out soft and shaking. He cleared it and tried again, but couldn't stop his fear from showing. "I thought I heard a child but--OH!"

The werewolf dropped to the ground, walking on all fours toward him. It was massive--the biggest alpha wolf that Wren had ever seen or smelled. And when it reached him it's head went straight between his legs.

Wren yelled. "WOAH! NO!" His pain and fear was momentarily forgotten as he grabbed the werewolf by it's long ears and pulled as hard as he could. 

...

Sebastian McCord had caught the soft scent of an omega in preheat seconds before he was overwhelmed with the scent of blood and heard a cry echoing through the forest. 

He had been out since nightfall, hunting for poachers that had been illegally hunting elk in the forest. While the stories of forest spirits and an overprotective werewolf monarchy kept most people from stepping foot off the road, there were always groups that dared to enter the trees and hunt. The McCord family, his family, had ruled over the Eire for as long as history was told, and they took great pride in their white elk. Unfortunately, the antlers and flesh of the elk was coveted by others who refused to obtain permission to hunt in designated areas and instead hired poachers who were familiar with the area and didn’t fear to go off the road.

He had been hoping to find those poachers tonight before the weather changed, but now he was distracted and hunting something else. Definitely not a poacher. The omega was Sídhe, with red hair and bright green eyes, and sleek pointed ears. He was dressed in jeans, a green hoodie, and had a backpack on his back and a sword at his side. His boots were heavy leather and were the only thing that stopped the trap from snapping his foot clear off.

Sebastian stalked closer, frowning and baring his teeth in thought. The omega's scent was strangely familiar, but he hadn't been out of these woods in years, and had only watched travelers from afar. Maybe he had smelled him on the road? He had a very distinct scent under his preheat; soft and fresh, like new dewy blossoms in the spring.

The alpha in him was distracted by the sweet scent of preheat, and he found himself getting closer for a sniff.

Maybe too close.

Sebastian had to wonder, as he unceremoniously shoved his wolf nose between the omega’s legs and inhaled deep, if he even knew he was in preheat. It was dangerous to travel these wild roads alone. The Sídhe was very attractive, with delicate features and pale skin with freckles; a forest elf. He would be desired by anyone with two eyes, and on the verge of heat? Well, any aggressive, overbearing alpha would be all over him.

Kind of like he was now.

The omega yelled and grabbed his sensitive ears and pulled while swearing at him. He leaned back with a threatening snarl, his teeth snapping shut just inches from the omega's face.

The elf fell back with a gasp, hands up to shield himself, leg twisted painfully.

Sebastian grumbled a low growl, ears flicking and tail lashing. He needed to reel in his alpha aggression. He had been out here alone for so long that he had apparently forgotten all his manners and how to act around another person. He dug his claws into the dirt as he thought about what to do.

Leaving the road was stupid, he had herded more than a dozen Otherkin out of the forest after they had been fooled by the chirps of the forest bats. He couldn't be angry at this omega for coming out here thinking someone was in danger, and if it hadn’t been for the poacher’s trap he wouldn’t be in this predicament. 

Sebastian turned his attention to the trap and the omega's injury. He tilted his head back and forth before he grabbed the trap and pried it open.

The omega gasped and lifted his left out and scooted away, whimpering softly. Sebastian dropped the trap and turned back to the Sídhe who was attempting to remove what was left of his boot in order to access his injury. There was blood everywhere, and more of it coming out the boot as the Sídhe struggled. The scent was growing stronger, tainted with fear and impending panic. He bared his teeth.

He might be the biggest monster out here, but that didn’t mean they were safe here. He needed to get the omega somewhere safe and warm, and then tend that wound before infection set it. Sídhe were more vulnerable to infection and injury than other immortals, and unfortunately, they also healed very slowly. The elf-people have little magic, and it could only be directed through things such as wands or magical staffs. 

Sebastian sighed. He had never brought another living person back to his cave, not even his brothers. But if he left this omega here he would certainly die, or worse. He could always bring him into town, but at this time of night he doubted anyone would be around, and selfishly he just didn’t want to go there and see other people.

He stood up, growled, and grabbed the Sídhe, throwing him over his shoulder. Then he grabbed the sword and the trap and turned, stalking off into the shadows.

"Put me down!" the Sídhe yelled. But one threatening snarl from Sebastian had him quiet. He broke into a run, dodging trees and crossing a river on the shallow end, before he reached the hidden entrance of the cave he had called home for many, many years. He maneuvered the omega, who was looking rather green, from his shoulder and into his arm and carried him inside.

A fire burned in the corner hearth and there were candles and oil lamps around the room that cast it in soft light. The cave itself was hidden by an enchantment he had hired a witch to cast years back when he used this cave as a hunting lodge. It was always warm and dry, and he used generators for electricity. Through the back was a narrow hallway down to a natural hot spring that he used to bath. He had decorated it over the years, filling it with things so that now he felt comfortable enough that he needn’t go into town and be seen.

Maybe he was a lone wolf, as his older brother had accused him of. 

He carried the omega over to his bed, it was large and he had made it with the branches and wood from an old yew tree he had cut down. The mattress was filled with straw and feathers and he used many blankets and quilts to make it more comfortable. He had many pillows as well. He had done everything he could to make a good nest for himself, without going into the world and buying a bed frame and mattress from a shop.

The omega stared up at him with wide eyes, no doubt expecting the very worst to happen to him. Sebastian knew this would all go along easier if he would just change back into the shape of a man, but the thought gave him anxiety. No one had seen him in that skin in years, even when he met with his brothers he went in his wolf fur. And he didn’t know this Sídhe, and if everything went well, he would be bringing him back to the road in the morning and leaving him with one of the villagers going to market. Then the Sídhe wouldn’t have to see his face and he could go on living as a ghost.

He extended his claws and ripped away the remains of the omega’s boot and finally exposed the full damage of the injury. He saw muscles, tendons, bones, and of course, more blood. They need to stop the bleeding and clean the wound. He sniffed it once before he started to lick it.

"Woah--big guy--stop that--" the omega gasped.

He growled and huffed. The omega's blood was sweet, and it brought his attention back between his legs. But before he could shove his nose there again he stood up, let the omega ago, and stalked across the cave. 

...

Wren watched as the werewolf crossed his den and started to dig through a trunk. He shifted on the bed, making sure his leg started hanging over the edge so he didn't bleed all over the blankets and took a second to look around.

The cave was wide and surprisingly clean and homey. The stone flooring was covered in assorted rugs. There was a hearth in one corner with enchanted fire that didn't give off smoke; there was a generator in another corner and a desk set up with a laptop and a mini-fridge beneath it. The walls had tapestries on them for a little color and there were trunks and crates off to one side, where the werewolf was now.

 _So, he lives here?_ Wren wondered as he slid his backpack off his shoulders. He pulled out a package of wet-wipes and started to clean off his ankle, which hurt like hell. He could see bone and whenever he bumped it, the pain was absolutely incredible. He tried not to start to cry again, not wanting to draw any negative attention to himself, but it had been a long time since he had been hurt this badly.

Wren was more of a runner, not a fighter. 

He had bandages but nothing that would work on so much damage. He was just thinking of ripping one of his t-shirts apart to use when the werewolf walked back over to him with a red first-aid box in one large hand.

Wren stared at the werewolf. "Is that for me?"

The werewolf snorted and thrust the box in his hands. He then backed away and stood at the mouth of the cave, watching him with piercing dark eyes.

"Thanks." Wren opened it, setting it on the bed next to him, and set to work. He cleaned the wound again and then set about applying gauze and then wrapping it up for extra support. It wasn’t perfect, and he absolutely needed the help from a doctor, but he would heal on his own eventually. There was a bottle of painkillers and he opened it and swallowed a few using the last bit of water from his water bottle.

He used another sterile wipe to clean his hands and apply smaller bandages to his fingers as he tried to ignore the werewolf that was standing not ten feet away from him, and was _staring_ at him. He really wanted to lay back but he knew better than to sleep in a strange alpha's bed. And he was strange. Why wasn't he transforming back? Obviously he spent the majority of his time as a man otherwise he wouldn't have fixed this place up to look like home. And why was he living in a cave?

This alpha had to be a member of the McCord family, so why wasn't he living in one of the many mansions on the surrounding hills? This place wasn’t bad, for a cave, it was spacious and clean, and it was fixed up and had a warm, homey atmosphere, but it wasn’t a mansion. 

“Are you going to stay like that all night?” Wren finally asked.

The wolf bared his teeth.

Wren frowned at the sight of such big teeth. "I'd like to leave. Are you going to let me go?"

The wolf looked out into the dark night before looking back. It shook its head.

He exhaled quietly. _I didn’t expect any other answer._ "Are you going to hurt me?"

Another shake of the head. That was somewhat reassuring. 

He looked around the cave. "I can't sleep in your bed. Do you have a cot or a sleeping bag?”

He wasn't this werewolf's mate. Sleeping in it's bed was highly inappropriate and not to mention dangerous. The werewolf had stuck it's head between his legs and smelled him, so it must know his heat was close. If he slept in this alpha's bed he would just be inviting trouble, and it would probably usher his heat in sooner. He hadn’t had a full heat in years, having drunk moon-leaf tea to suppress it and shorten the time. He couldn’t have children, so the purpose of his heat was only to make him miserable for a week and attract alphas of any species to try to mate with him. He had been single for the last fifty-years, and hadn’t been looking for a mate, so he saw no reason to put himself through the trouble of a heat when it wasn’t going to benefit him in any way.

The werewolf's tail lashed and he stalked forward. Wren leaned back, bracing himself, but all it did was push him back and maneuver him to the center of the bed. Then it backed off again.

Wren sat back up and was about to scoot across the bed and out of it, when the wolf growled at him. He stopped.

 _I guess I'm stuck here…_ Wren realized as he leaned back on his elbows. He looked around again, trying to find some kind of evidence that would tell him who this strange wolf was. Not that it mattered. It had been three-hundred years since he had been in the Eire. The last time he had been here his mother was selling potatoes in the market and the McCord family had been on the brink of war with a neighboring family. He remembered it all too well: the smoke as the Sídhe village burned, the screams as werewolves overran the survivors. There had been so much blood and death, and the survivors had fled into the hills and the forest. 

Wren closed his eyes tight and dropped back onto the bed. Maybe coming back here had been a massive mistake. He had been living in Ironwood City for the last fifty-years. He should have just stayed there. But he had been feeling an ache in his chest, and he had been having dreams of the Eire. Sometimes it was of the small house he had shared with his mother. Other times it was the dark eyes of a young werewolf lord. So he had taken an extended vacation from his job at the other Otherkin bank in Ironwood and crossed dimensions to get here, as it wasn't easy. He hadn't been able to find any traveling mirrors that could take him here, so he had been stuck going at it on foot, taking archway portals and traveling through trees. But now that he was here?

He looked at the werewolf. Had he come back here just to die?

...

_Lay down and go to sleep, little elf._

Sebastian didn't blame the omega for being wary and not wanting to sleep in his bed. Alpha werewolves had built up a bad reputation over the years for being aggressive toward omegas, especially when alone with them. But Sebastian wasn't an animal, or a rapist, and he wanted this omega to relax and he needed him to rest. His alpha instinct, which he hadn't heard from in the seventy-years since the death of his wife, was waking up and it was demanding one thing from him:

Care for the omega. Make him feel safe enough to sleep. Take away his fear.

And he knew that changing back would do that, of course. He just didn't know why he was hesitating. 

He huffed and lashed his tail. He went to the pile of bloody towelettes the omega had used to clean his wound. He sniffed them and his brain scrambled, because he knew this scent. But he didn't know how.

The bed creaked and he looked up and met brilliant green eyes and a beautiful face. The omega had freckles and pouty pink lips. He was... cute. Extremely cute. And it wasn't just the scent of his pre-heat that had Sebastian heart pounding.

 _I've been alone for way too long,_ he realized, because he was getting worked up over EYE CONTACT with someone attractive.

He had banished himself to a life of solitude after the death of his mate, vowing to not return to the world until he felt like he had mourned her for the appropriate amount of time. More than seventy-years later and he still missed her, and he had turned himself into a recluse. He hadn’t gone into town in years and had arranged for any supplies he needed to be delivered to an empty cabin once used as a trading post, and paid for everything online. Whenever his brothers howled for him he met them as a werewolf and not a man. He even went back to emailing them instead of skyping.

"You're turning into a hermit," his brother had said in his last email. "Yvette never wanted you to do this, Sebastian. She wanted you to be with your family. We can help you heal! It's not right for a wolf to be alone for so long. Please come home." Those emails always came from his younger omega brother, whom he hadn't seen in so many years. He would be immortal now. Did he have a mate?

Sebastian felt an ache he hadn't in years and thrashed his tail. He focused back on the frightened elf and bared his teeth. 

_Yeah. Scare him. You fucking moron._

He snapped his mouth shut and exhaled heavily. He looked around before walking over to the mouth of the cave. 

There he laid down and turned his attention to the forest. 

...

Wren watched as the alpha rested at the mouth of the cave. Was it to keep him safe, or to keep him here? It wasn’t like he could just get up and run away, it was going to take days for his ankle to heal to the point that he could walk unassisted. And if he ended up with an infection, it would take even longer. 

It looked like he was trapped here.

Seeing no other option he laid back amongst the furs. The scent burned into them was all alpha; heavy and masculine, woodsy with a touch of soap. And while the scent could be seen as intimidating or threatening, it spoke to his omega brain in a different way: calming Wren when he was sure he should stay alert and awake.

He didn’t last more than a couple of minutes and he was asleep.

When Sebastian heard the Sídhe’s breaths even out he stood up and checked on him. Seeing that he was asleep he stepped back and closed his eyes, changing back into a man. The transformation was as easy as breathing, with no pain or bloodshed. He rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck before approaching the bed again, and this time he stood and studied the sleeping Sídhe.

There was something so familiar about this omega. He just didn’t know what. The villages in the Eire were full of Sídhe, along with many assorted species of Otherkin, but the Sídhe being the most populous. The elfish people were farmers and hunters, and were a vital piece to making the McCord lands such a rich area for trade. They were a people of many talents, and while many of the higher class werewolves saw the Sídhe as lower, McCord had always enjoyed spending time with them, especially in his childhood.

He reached out to touch the Sídhe’s red hair, but stopped himself at the last second, and instead pulled the blankets up over the immortal. Satisfied that he was warm and comfortable, he went to check his food storage.

...

In the morning Wren woke to the smell of coffee and bacon. He raised his head from the pillow, blinking groggily. His body was still heavy with sleep and he was the most warm and comfortable he had felt in weeks. And it may have something to do with the fact that he was completely covered in the alpha’s scent.

Which brought him back to the current moment. He sat up slowly and looked around, his eyes landing on a man sitting on a folded out cot near the hearth. There was a skillet over the fire along with a kettle. On a small table were a set of mugs, and condiments.

 _So, this is the werewolf?_ Even from behind he knew the man would be devastatingly handsome because there wasn’t an alpha werewolf in the universe who wasn’t hot. Wren would guess he was over six-foot-four; he was muscular, with dark brown hair and olive skin. He was wearing dark wash jeans and a t-shirt that might as well have been painted on, because he could see every curve and muscle.

Wren rolled over so he could sit up, jostling his ankle as he did and letting out a little squeak. He straightened out his legs and pulled the furs down into his lap. When he looked up, he locked eyes with the alpha.

Yes, he was devastatingly handsome. Full lips, dark eyes, heavy eyebrows and dark hair that had a little wave to it. He had stubble on his chin and cheeks, and wore diamond earrings.

The silence stretched between them, but Wren had no idea how to talk to such an intimidating alpha werewolf.

The man’s dark eyes looked him over and his large hands flexed as he stood up. Then he spoke, gently, “I apologize if I frightened you last night.”

He swallowed hard and said, “Okay. Thanks.” He started to worry that this man was going to kick-start his heat.

The alpha stared at him for a few nerve-wracking seconds before he gestured to a skillet and kettle. “I have coffee and bacon for you. No strings attached.”

Wren exhaled. The man could be lying of course, but he was famished. “That would be great--”

“No, don’t get up,” the alpha interrupted when Wren moved. “Don’t hurt yourself. Let me serve you.”

Wren leaned his back to the pillows and watched as the man prepared a plate for him and filled a mug with coffee. 

This was a dangerous game. Was the alpha being polite out of the goodness of his heart, or was he trying to secure a claim on him? He certainly knew that Wren was in preheat, he’d shoved his giant wolf head between his legs. Maybe he just wanted to keep him here so he could mate him.

He must have made a face, because the alpha stopped. “I swear, I’m not going to hurt you, elf.”

“What’s your name?” Wren asked.

“McCord.”

Wren pursed his lips. So he _was_ one of the McCords that ruled over this entire area. So why was he in a cave? Why was he unmated? At his age he should have a mate and a dozen kids running around howling at the moon. He should be the lord of his own household and be living in luxury and riches.

“Will you let me charge my cell phone?” Wren asked carefully.

Sebastian thought it was a strange way to phrase such a question, until he realized that the omega was still screening for danger. “Of course you can,” he said. “And I’ll take you to town when you’re able to walk. Do you have money for an Inn?”

He absolutely did not. “Yes.”

An exchange was made, Wren handed over his phone and charger and Sebastian gave him the food and coffee. He left the phone on the desk to charge and picked up his own coffee and went to sit near the bed, but not close enough that the omega should feel threatened. He was eating the bacon at least, and that made Sebastian’s inner alpha preen.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

Wren lowered the mug from his lips. The coffee was black and bitter, but the kick was helping him wake up. The bacon was perfect. “Wren.”

The way the alpha sat back, his dark eyes looking him over closely, made him nervous again. But just as quick the predatory gaze softened and he was asking, “Why did you come here, Wren?” 

He chose to drink then, giving him a few extra seconds. “Just traveling.” 

_How many lies are you going to tell me, omega?_ wondered as he squinted at the elf.

A little while later Sebastian went out to hunt. He had some food stored in the mini-fridge that was running off a generator but his alpha instinct was telling him to bring this omega fresh meat, berries and fruits, and anything else he could find for him. 

He also needed time to think, because it wasn’t possible that this Sídhe was the same one from his childhood, because that boy had died. The name Wren wasn’t an usual name for the elfish-people, they were often named after things in nature, such as birds or the elements. But his scent beneath that of his preheat was so familiar, but he hadn’t been able to focus on it, too distracted by his dick. 

As he walked the forest he remembered a friend he had over three-hundred years ago. They had been children, neither had presented yet. He remembered the Sídhe’s mother selling food in the market. They lived in one of the Sídhe villages near the river. They had sold… potatoes? He was sure it was potatoes. She was a single mother and the boy her only child. He remembered him having red hair, and was a few years younger than himself. 

Back then Sebastian had often gone to the market, especially on Sunday mornings, to sample whatever had been brought into the city to sell. There were always new kinds of fruits and vegetables, freshly made breads and rolls, homemade jams and dried meats. He would always end up at the cart selling potatoes, and would play with the young Sídhe boy who had come across as shy, but once he got to know him, found the elf was adventurous and spunky.

They were friends, even if Sebastian’s mother frowned on her son going into the market to spend time with those who were not pack and lower-classed than themselves. That hadn’t mattered to Sebastian, and Wren hadn’t been afraid of him because he was a young wolf lord. All that had mattered was their friendship and the mischief they got themselves into.

Sebastian caught and killed a pair of rabbits, and finished skinning them just as a low rumble echoed through the trees.

He had completely forgotten that there was a storm coming. The wind picked up suddenly and the canopy howled and leaves started to whip around him. By the time he made it back to the cave he was sopping wet and the storm was bearing down on him with wailing winds, rain, and flashes of lightning followed by roaring thunder. 

His cave was above the flood line and always remained warm and dry, (and he had had it enchanted just to be completely safe) and he had enough food for the two of them. Because now they would not be heading to town until it was over, and that could be days. The Eire was infamous for it’s strange weather patterns and thunderstorms that could last a week or longer. The rivers and streams would swell and flood, washing out bridges and paths, and tearing down anything in the water’s path.

…

When the storm rolled in Wren sat up in alarm, listening as thunder roared and branches fell outside from the trees. The rain was loud and he sat and waited for the cave to inevitably flood. But it appeared that the wolf’s den was not only safe from the weather, but had also been cast in a protection spell. He had suspected it earlier, but now he definitely felt the crackle of magic at the mouth of the cave which had kept out insects, and now the howling wind and rain. 

He was just about to try hobbling over to his cell phone when the alpha returned, stomping into the cave completely soaked and his feet caked in mud. Wren watched from the bed as the man set down his satchel and two skinned rabbits, and started to strip out of his wet clothing.

Wren knew he should look away, he did, but he was absolutely unable to. He watched as McCord stripped out of his t-shirt to reveal the chest and abs of a god, and a long lean torso. Dark hair covered his chest and trailed down his naval and Wren didn’t even get a chance to imagine what was hidden in his jeans as they were next, and the man wasn’t wearing underwear.

Now he looked away, because he really did not want to jump-start his heat. McCord had been kind to him thus far, but alphas changed when they were around someone in heat. It didn’t matter that Wren was Sídhe and not werewolf, the urge to breed him would rise up in the alpha.

So he turned his attention to his hands and squeezed them together.

He continued to stare down until he heard the rustling of clothing. McCord pulled on a pair of sweatpants after drying off, but was still bare chested. 

Wren shuddered as thunder shook the cave. “So I’m guessing that we aren’t going anywhere?”

“Not unless you want to drown,” Sebastian said as he picked up the rabbits and went to salt them and store them for later. The omega’s scent had sweetened and grown a little heavier, but if they were lucky, his heat would hold off until he was safe in a private room in the Inn. “The road to town will be washed out by now.”

The elf’s scent soured slightly. He wasn’t an animal, he wasn’t going to rape the omega if he went into heat, but it would be very, very uncomfortable for them both. He tried to remember what he had done for his siblings during their heats.

Help make a clean, comfortable nest, and make them feel safe; tend their aches, make sure they have lots of food.

Sebastian frowned. It looked like his alpha instincts had already taken over and he was doing just that.

Which was unusual. He didn’t know this Sídhe.

Unless he did.

The easy answer would be to tell Wren his actual name and see what his response was.

Then again, it had been what, three-hundred years? He had been twelve, the Sídhe had been seven. It was a long time ago and who knew if this omega would even remember him. Sebastian was hanging onto hope that this was the same person, but the facts were that the village had been burned and overrun and every report had said that the villagers had all died, and those that hadn’t, had gone into the forest and were most likely hunted down and killed.

He grabbed a sweater and tugged it on before walking over to the bed. Out of instinct the omega was moving away before he even sat down.

“Relax, omega,” he said. “I just want to check your wound.”

...

McCord’s fingers were gentle as Wren let him unwind the bandages.

The alpha clicked his tongue. “You’re healing slowly. But there appears to be no infection.”

Wren pursed his lips in annoyance. “I don’t have a lot of magic, and my—“ He cut himself short, but the look McCord gave him said that he knew what Wren was going to say. That his impending heat took a lot of energy from him, and magic. 

Wren looked away, ignoring the alpha as he cleaned and wrapped his ankle.

“How long until it starts?” Sebastian asked. 

The question had Wren’s heart pounding. Obviously the alpha smelled it, but he had still foolishly hoped that he hadn’t. Honestly, he hadn’t planned on having a heat during this time. He hadn’t been paying attention to the calendar and had somehow forgotten to pack any kind of suppressants. When he realized he was in preheat he had hoped to get to town and take a traveling mirror back to Ironwood and to home. It would have made this entire trip rather… pointless. But he didn’t want to be trapped alone in a strange place in heat without someone to help or guard him. Now, it was even worse.

“Maybe two days,” he finally answered.

McCord frowned. “This storm could last three to seven days.” 

Wren turned to stare at him. McCord was still sitting on the bed, his hands on his ankle, but his dark eyes were staring at him. There was a hunger there, but it was overlapped with the alpha’s uncertainty. “You’re kidding me.”

McCord sighed and leaned back. He ran a hand through his bangs, pushing them out of his face. As he did, Wren saw a silver scar on his upper forehead. 

He frowned, and without thinking, reached out to touch it. 

But McCord moved back, frowning at him. 

“Sorry,” he immediately apologized. “It’s just...”

 _You remind me of someone…_ But that was impossible. He dropped his hand and focused his attention on the more pressing matter at hand.

“I didn’t realize it was so close when I came here,” he said, feeling the need to explain himself. “I haven’t had a full heat in years. I stupidly forgot my suppressants. What… What will you do when it starts?”

McCord’s dark eyes were set. “Nothing. You aren’t my omega, and I’m not your alpha. I’ll leave you as you want.”

He frowned worriedly. To be completely alone during a heat was hell, a hell he had endured before, but if McCord left him he would be completely vulnerable, and that was even more frightening. He looked to the mouth of the cave. 

“What else is in these woods?” He asked. 

“Oh, nothing will get inside this cave,” he promised with a low growl. “No one will hurt you.” 

Wren couldn’t stop from frowning, but at the same time, a very old memory surfaced. 

His friend had been a werewolf high lord, a couple years older than himself. He couldn’t remember his name. He had dark hair and eyes, but all the McCord children had the same genetics. But this one had been outgoing and adventurous, and Wren couldn’t stop from following him around. 

One day a young berserker had bullied him, and the werewolf lord had pummeled the bully until he was crying. The young McCord hadn’t come out unscathed, suffering a gash on his forehead. Wren had been more upset by the blood on his friend's face than his own injuries, but the werewolf lord had only been concerned with him.

He had promised Wren, with a huge dimpled smile, that he would always protect him and keep him safe. 

Wren looked at this older alpha and again, frowned. That was so long ago.

…

McCord spent most of his time in his werewolf fur, out in the forest in the storm, hunting and searching for poachers and traps, and every evening he came home completely soaked and covered in mud, and sometimes carrying rabbits or a satchel filled with harvest. Wren asked him why he insisted on going out into such awful weather, but the man had refused to answer. Wren wondered if it was because his scent was becoming heavier and harder for him to resist.

McCord had denied that he was stocking up for Wren’s heat, like any good alpha would, but it was obvious to Wren that that was exactly what he was doing. He was stocking up on different types of food; berries and fruit, nuts and figs, and lots of fresh meat, and had been making adjustments to the bed, making it more nest-like, whenever Wren went to relieve himself or bathe in the hot spring that was further inside the cave. 

But McCord never approached the bed when he was in it, only to check his ankle, otherwise he kept his distance. 

Was he afraid of his self-control? Or did he want to make Wren feel more comfortable? 

It didn’t take long for him to realize that McCord was a very good alpha. 

But he wasn’t HIS alpha. 

He didn’t know him at all. He had no idea why he lived in solitude, why he spent so much time in his werewolf body, nothing. McCord wasn’t a talker, but it wasn’t like Wren was asking the questions. After his phone had charged he had tried to use it to contact anybody he knew who could trace, but there was no signal out here, and McCord had to explain that once the storms started, nothing worked. He was just thankful for the generator and the enchanted hearth that was always burning. The storm raged on loudly, and it was never quiet. The sound of rain and thunder was becoming a comforting lullaby to help him sleep.

...

Wren woke up in what he suspected was the middle of the night in full-blown heat. He was shivering and clammy, his skin hot like he had a fever, and slick had ruined his pants. His clothes were wet with sweat and his glands felt swollen and sensitive. At first he could only lay in bed, shaking as his body grew hot and cramped. Has it always been this uncomfortable? Had it always come on so damn fast? Or was it because he had spent all his time completely smothered in the scent of a powerful alpha? 

He whined loudly and rolled over, only to lock eyes with McCord. 

The alpha was standing a few feet away from the bed and staring at him. His eyes were gleaming and wild, his nostrils flared, and his body tense like a wire ready to snap. There was sweat on his chest and brow, and the veins in his neck and arms were bulging.

Wren swallowed hard and froze in place. His heart hammered and his omega body instantly responded to be stared at by such a hungry alpha. 

It wanted him. Wren didn’t. 

It was a stalemate; neither taking eyes off each other. Wren was afraid of moving, fearing he would send the wrong signal. The alpha appeared to be wrapped under the spell of his scent. Wren’s distress made his body ache, made him tense and his scent sour. He was scared, and he was aching, he didn’t know what to do. What did he need? What he did actually want? What was his own thoughts and not that of his omega hindbrain?

He took a deep shaking breath and rubbed his neck. McCord exhaled and turned away, but Wren let out a whine. 

He turned back, hands fisted. “Wren?” 

Wren closed his eyes as he tried not to cry. He was in pain, and he was starving for any kind of touch. As if reading his thoughts, McCord offered, gently, “I could scent you... if you wanted. It might help with the--the pain and stress. I promise not to touch you in any other way.”

He agreed with a single nod. He needed something to help with the tension. He sat up and closed his eyes as the bed shifted with the alpha’s weight. McCord leaned over him, and then he was nuzzling his neck. He scented both sides of his neck, and his heavy alpha scent helped with some of the tension. He even found himself leaning into the touch, which caused the alpha to pull back. Wren opened his eyes, and met McCord’s.

The whites of the alpha’s eyes had gone black, and his expression was all feral wolf. 

But he was in control.

“What next?” McCord asked, his voice heavy and thick.

“I want to get naked,” he said shakily. He was sweating and he was so, so hot. The scenting had helped with some of his anxiety, which was probably why he was suddenly stripping off his t-shirt and his jeans, even his socks, and tossing them to the floor. He stayed beneath the blankets, and noticed that McCord had looked away.

Wren felt bad that the furs and blankets were going to be filthy with sweat and slick. Maybe the werewolf had a dry-cleaner? 

Now that he was naked he was even more aware of his needs. He wanted to finger himself—no, he wanted McCord to finger him. No, he wanted his cock. Wait, no he didn’t—his omega hindbrain was taking over and Wren wondered if he was going to lose complete control. He hadn’t had a full heat in so many years! Had it always been like this? Or was this from years and years of build up?

“Wren?” McCord asked an even, steady voice. “How can I help you?”

 _I must look really bad._ Wren exhaled and ran his hands through his damp hair. “I don’t know.”

...

The omega looked awful. His scent was rich and sweet, but the Sídhe himself looked like he was having the worst day of his life. His sweet scent was slightly soured by his stress and his fear, and he looked like he was going to have a breakdown.

Sebastian couldn’t blame him, the elf was stuck in a cave with an alpha he didn’t know. Or had forgotten, because the more time they spent together the more Sebastian was sure that this was his Wren.

Not _his/_ Wren. Not his omega.

Wren was on the verge of tears and all Sebastian wanted to do was hold him.

Maybe he could.

“I can hold you,” he offered.

The omega blinked at him, his green eyes teary and feverish. He seemed to be at war with his own thoughts and desires, and it broke Sebastian’s heart. 

“Skin on skin contact is good,” Wren mumbled as he blushed hotly and looked away.

All right, he could do that. He stripped off his shirt and got beneath the blankets. He opened his arms and watched as the shy omega examined him.

Then Wren was in his arms, face nestled into his chest, his naked body molded against Sebastian’s, who was never more happy that he was wearing pants. There was no way to stop his cock from hardening, but he could, and would, ignore it. He had promised Wren he wouldn’t take advantage of him, and he was not going to break that promise.

Sebastian rubbed his back gently and had to control just how far down he let his hands go. Wren sighed and whined, his little claws sinking into his chest as the omega curled against him. He massaged his lower back, then traced his fingers up his spine. The more he touched and rubbed, the more the omega relaxed. And when he relaxed, he released more slick. Sebastian kept the blankets pulled around Wren, to help smother the tempting scent, but his werewolf nose was far too good. 

Finally Wren nuzzled against him and fell asleep with a purr. Sebastian let his head fall back into the pillows.

“Goddess, give me strength.”

...

Wren woke to the sound of rain, wind, and gentle snoring. He was hot and achy, but it wasn’t as bad as he thought he would feel. This being his first heat in years he thought for sure that he would be miserable and cramped out, but he actually felt...pretty relaxed. He was warm and secure and—

His eyes popped open and he was rocked by the situation he found himself in. He was lying on the alpha, who was shirtless, and had his strong arms around him. Wren himself was _naked_ and he could feel slick, wet and sticky, from his ass all the way between his thighs. The smell was heavy. 

But why was he naked?!

Why was the alpha in his bed?

Why were they cuddling?

Wren’s eyes bugged. He did not remember any of this. McCord had his pants on, and Wren knew they hadn’t had sex of any kind. He tried to wrack his brain, but he came up with nothing. He must have been in the middle of a fever when he...invited the man into bed? Is that what happened?

McCord was deep asleep, his handsome face peaceful and soft. He had the sharpest cheekbones Wren had ever seen. His hair was sweaty and a light mess, it looked like he had been running his hand through it over and over again. Because of its mussed state, Wren could just see the scar on the man’s forehead.

With a shaking hand he pushed the alpha’s hair off his forehead. He touched the scar with his thumb.

“Wren.”

He flinched and looked down, meeting dark eyes.

It really wasn’t fair that eye contact made him immediately wet and gave him a hot flash. He sat up and leaned away from the alpha. The blankets fell down around him and released a pocket of scent that had been captured under the blankets. McCord’s own aroused scent mixed with his, and Wren felt his entire body blush.

“Do I know you?” He asked shakily. He needed to think about something other than riding the man’s dick.

McCord’s expression was unreadable. If the heavy scent of his heat was bothering him, he didn’t let it show. “Why would you think that?” he asked.

“You’re one of the McCords,” Wren stated. “Which one? You never told me your first name.”

“Why did you come here?” McCord asked instead, trying to steer the subject away from himself.

Wren wrinkled his nose in annoyance. “Just tell me your name!”

“Answer my question.”

“Answer mine first!” 

Wren was leaning the alpha now, who was still on his back. McCord’s hands were at his sides and his eyebrows were drawn into a frown. His dark eyes gleamed in the low lights of the cave. He was sweating, and his calm demeanor was crumbling. But was it from Wren’s heat, or something else?

“Who are you?” He asked again when the silence stretched as the alpha stubbornly remained quietly. “Why are you in this cave? Why are you being so nice to me? If we know each other, you have to tell me! I was from the Eire, many years ago. I grew up in a Sídhe village. My mother sold potatoes in the market.”

His words were the final puzzle piece falling perfectly into place. Sebastian stared at Wren’s face. It was flushed and he could see all of his freckles. They were scattered all over his body like stars. 

“Your freckles are like stars in the night sky. If I connected them, I could make my own constellations.”

Wren’s eyes grew huge. “Sebastian?” He whispered.

Wren stared at the man in shock. He straddled him so he could get a closer look at his face. This wasn’t the child he had befriended, but now that he knew what he was looking for, he saw it. The scar from the berserker's attack, the warmth in such dark eyes, and the dimples on his cheeks. His childhood friend had grown up into a powerful alpha, as Wren always knew he would. Sebastian had been outgoing, adventurous, fearless and brave. But he’d been playful, kind, and so giving towards him.

“Sebastian...” he whispered again.

The alpha’s face cracked into a soft smile. “Wren.”

He seemed to realize then that he was straddling the man, and he blushed. “Let me--let me get off you--” He grabbed the blankets and moved off the man and sat with the blankets wrapped around him. Sebastian sat up, looking at him closely. “H-How long have you known it was me? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I suspected it was you from the start,” Sebastian admitted. “But I wasn’t sure. When I saw your freckles and moles I grew more sure that it was.”

“And you didn’t tell me because?”

“I was… I guess I was afraid. I promised to bring you to town once you were able to walk, and I didn’t want to go through the pain of losing you all over again,” he said with a frown. “I was being selfish.”

Wren reached out to touch him, but dropped his hand at the last second. “Why are you in this cave and not one of your family homes?”

Sebastian exhaled. “I’m in mourning.”

Wren’s head snapped up so fast his neck actually popped. “What? Oh shit—did I interrupt—“

“No! No, no,” he quickly said as he sat up and moved closer. “My wife, Yvette, died over seventy years ago. I couldn’t… I couldn’t recover from it and came here to mourn.”

“You’ve been mourning here alone for seventy years?” Wren asked sadly. “And then I came and interrupted—gods, I’m so sorry!”

Sebastian reached out and touched the omega’s long, red hair. He pushed it back over his bare shoulder, letting his fingers stroke over the pale skin. “Don’t be sorry,” he said quietly. “I think I was waiting here for a reason.”

Wren swallowed hard. “You’ve inhaled too much of my heat. You’re drunker than I am.” And he felt the alpha’s forehead for a fever.

He brought the omega’s hand down to his mouth and kissed his palm. “My wife, Yvette, told me once that she never believed in soulmates. She said that we fall in love with those that we're compatible with. When she died, she made me promise that I wouldn’t follow her into death. I did my best to keep that promise, but over time I started to spend more and more time away from my family. I came here to mourn. But I think I came here to hide, because I felt like I had failed my mate.”

“How did she die?” he asked as he slid his hand into Sebastian’s and gave his hand a soft squeeze.

“A rare genetic disorder,” he said. “It’s why we never had children. We both knew that her time was limited, and I accepted it. I always planned on dying with her, but she was strong. Stronger than I ever was. And she ordered me to live on and be happy, because I had made her short life as happy as she could have ever dreamed.”

“She sounds amazing,” Wren said with a smile. “I wish I could have known her.”

“She would have loved you,” he said. The alpha female had been an absolute force of nature, and her cunning and wits, along with her skills in the hunt, were what had drawn him to her. He had never thought about leaving her, even when he knew she would leave him far too soon. 

She had told him during one of their last days together that she didn’t want him to be alone for all eternity, and she certainly did not want him to die from heartbreak and follow her into the Afterlife, as many werewolf couples did.

And gods, he had wanted to. But at the time his sister had small children and his youngest brothers were toddlers, and he had spent much of his time just watching and raising them. But the pain was always there, and it had driven him into the forest, to this cave, and into seclusion for the last seventy years.

Sebastian cocked his head and asked, “Where have you been? Not in the Eire, I would have known.”

“Hmm,” he hummed as he laid down, and Sebastian did the same, rolling over to give the elf his full attention. “Mother died in the attack, and I ran off with another family. They were picked off over time as we fled into the forest, but I eventually found a road and was taken in by another family. I wanted to come back here, I insisted, like the brat I was, that I had a friend I had to see. But they knew that the war had started, and they never believed I could have been friends with a werewolf lord.

“So they took me back to their home, out of the Eire, and I was raised there with their own children. They never really felt like family, you know? When I was seventeen I left, taking what little money I had earned doing various work in town. I was going to come back here, to find you, but by then another war had started. Instead I took the advice of a friend, another omega, and went to Ironwood City in the mortal world. It was safe for mateless omegas, and I started a life there.”

Sebastian remembered the wars well. He had lost family to them, and almost lost two of his brothers during the time. By the time the second war started he had long accepted that Wren was dead, because he had never come back. As a child he had believed his friend would always come back. As a man he saw the horror of war and came to accept that his friend was dead, and that was just the facts of war.

“Can I ask you a question?” Wren asked.

“Of course.”

“Why am I naked? And why are you in bed with me?”

Sebastian rolled onto his back, howling with laughter. “You don’t remember?”

“No! What did I say? I didn’t do anything stupid, did I?” he asked with a worried flush.

“No, no you didn’t, sweet-thing,” he said with a smile. “You just wanted a hug. You were so miserable with fever.”

Wren exhaled with relief. “I’m so sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” Sebastian said.“I was more than happy to help you.”

Wren pressed his face into the pillows. He was aching, but he wasn’t going to let Sebastian know that. He wasn’t here to seduce the man. And who was to say that he would even want him back? Beyond the carnal desire to mate him purely because they were alpha and omega, Wren had been given no hints that Sebastian was interested in him at all. And he was in mourning. For seventy-years, sure, but everyone handled things differently.

“Wren?” Sebastian asked quietly. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.”

“You know, I can tell when you’re lying,” Sebastian said as he rolled onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow. “What’s bothering you? Is your fever coming back?”

When Sebastian pressed his large palm against his forehead, Wren blushed. He leaned up into the contact, forgetting for a moment what he was doing. “I don’t want to cause you anymore problems.”

“You haven’t caused me any problems,” Sebastian gently argued. “If anything, you being here is helping me.”

“What? How?”

“I haven’t talked face-to-face with another person in years,” he explained. “Not even my brothers. I… I told myself I was here mourning, which isn’t untrue, but I was also hiding myself away. I just shut myself off from the rest of the world, and that isn’t what I should be doing.”

Wren blinked rapidly. “That’s really heavy, Sebastian.”

He laughed. “Why did you come back here, Wren?”

He nestled back down, but not without inching himself a little closer to the alpha. “I’ve had this ache in my chest for the last couple of years,” he explained. “And I’ve been dreaming of this place. Not-not this cave, but the Eire. Of the house I shared with mom. The market. Playing by the pond. I couldn’t get it to stop, and so I finally thought fuck it, and I took a vacation. I don’t know what I was expecting to find.”

Sebastian angled his body closer to the omega’s. He reached out again and touched his cheek. Wren was hot, and his skin sweaty. He wasn’t as feverish as before, but he was certainly in pain. “Wren?”

“Hm?” He again almost leaned into the alpha’s touch, and it was getting harder to resist going to him.

“Do you want me to help you?”

Wren swallowed hard. He stared at the alpha, who was leaning closer to him. He could smell Sebastian’s arousal. He closed his eyes. “I don’t expect you to do anything… I’m not… I’m not your omega.”

“But you’re my friend,” Sebastian reasoned.

“Gods,” he whined loudly. “Sebastian--do you really want me?”

“More than anything, Wren.” Now that he knew that this was Wren, _his_ Wren, there was no stamping out his desires. This omega was his friend, and he was in pain. And Sebastian didn’t know if it was the Fates or the Goddess or just pure stupid luck that brought that together, but he wasn’t going to turn his back on it or on Wren. He reached out again, stroking his cheek. 

“Yes,” he whispered harshly. “Sebastian, please, I want you to help me.”

Sebastian rumbled a low growl before he cupped the back of the elf’s head and dove in to kiss him. Wren submitted easily, his lips were pliable and soft, parting for Sebastian’s deep, hard kiss. With his free hand Sebastian struggled out of his jeans, quite the challenge given his aching erection, but he managed, and tossed the article of clothing to the floor along with Wren’s. Now naked, his scent filled the cave, and Wren let out a desperate whine.

“Beautiful Wren,” he sighed as he stroked his hand over the omega’s face and pressed his thumb against his plump lips. “I’m going to help you. I’ll do whatever you want me to do. I’ll stop if you ask me to.”

“Okay,” he breathed shakily. 

“I’m sure you know, but I can’t impregnate you,” Sebastian said. 

“I know,” he panted as he reached out to touch the man’s chest. Werewolves could only have children with their own species, something that had nearly cursed werewolves into extinction. “Sebastian, please.”

“Yes, sweet, I’m sorry,” he purred as he finally tossed the blankets off them and moved over the smaller omega. He kissed at his neck, suckling gently over his hidden scent glands. He groaned at the taste, sucking and licking until the omega was whimpering. He slid one hand down Wren’s body and between his legs.

“Oh--” Wren moaned as he raised his hips. “Sebastian~”

“You’re so wet,” Sebastian groaned as he felt him with his fingers. “Are you aching?”

“It’s been--a long time since I’ve had sex,” Wren said between heavy breaths as Sebastian pumped his fingers slowly. He could feel the alpha’s erection against his leg, and sure enough, he was fucking hung.

“Yeah, same.”

Wren sputtered and then started to laugh. Sebastian followed suit, bowing his head and laughing against the omega’s neck. They laughed until they were breathless, and then Sebastian was kissing him and saying, “So if I’m a little rusty, I apologize now.”

“I’m not too worried,” Wren said as he spread his legs and encouraged the alpha to nestle between them. He cupped his face and kissed him softly, before trailing his lips down the alpha’s chin and to his neck. He bit him. 

“I’ll take care of you,” Sebastian promised. 

“You’re a good alpha,” Wren said between kisses. He felt Sebastian move against him, his cock pressing against his entrance. He curled his toes in anticipation and whined. The fever was starting to take him over, but with Sebastian there to kiss him and calm him, he didn’t feel like he was falling into an abyss. 

“Am I?” he asked as he resisted the temptation to simply plunge into Wren. He looked down at the elf, trailing his finger over his freckles, his lips, through his vibrant red hair. 

“Of course you are,” Wren said softly. “Look at all you did for me, while expecting nothing back from me, and didn’t try once to take advantage of me.”

“Am I not taking advantage now?” he asked worriedly. Wren’s green eyes were bright, nearly glowing, and he was sweaty and slightly feverish. 

“I’m quite lucid,” Wren promised with a smile. “And I want you. More than I’ve ever wanted anyone.”

The alpha blushed. He kissed the elf again, before he finally started to push into him. Both groaned and closed their eyes. Sebastian knew he hadn’t had sex in far, far too long, but he couldn’t imagine doing it with anyone else but Wren. Wren had also been single for a long time, and honestly, he had never gone looking for anyone. He didn’t mind being single, he didn’t miss having sex, and he had always kept his heat under control.

Wren opened his eyes as Sebastian fully mounted him, and then froze over him, trembling.

“Sebastian,” he whispered, “look at me.”

The alpha opened his eyes. The whites were stained black, and Wren could see specks of gold in his dark brown eyes. He was overwhelmed but he was in control. He was beautiful and strong; a good alpha. A perfect alpha.

“I see you,” Sebastian whispered back as he leaned down to kiss him. “My beautiful songbird.”

Wren whimpered, tears running down his face. “You’re going to make me cry.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. Wren was tight, hot, and so wet and ripe. He bit his neck gently and started to thrust. With Wren being as wet as he was, the movement was easy. “Aah…”

“Hnn--!” Wren curled his short claws into Sebastian’s strong shoulders and moved with him. “Yes, yes Sebastian…”

Sebastian groaned, hands gripping the elf’s slender waist as he drove into him. Wren let his head fall back, exposing his throat in submission, and while Sebastian wanted nothing more in that moment to mark and claim him, he did not, and only kissed him harder. Wren clawed up his back, pulled at his hair, bit his lips and licked at his chin. When they came, it was together, and it left them both breathless and speechless, Sebastian slumping over Wren, who tucked himself against the alpha and refused to let go.

Sometime later, after drinks and a meal in bed, Sebastian said, “I should go home, shouldn’t I?”

Wren, satisfied with food and sex, was lying in the nest they made together, and using the alpha’s thigh as a pillow. He rolled over and looked up at him. “Do you want to go home?”

He looked down and threaded his fingers through the omega’s hair. “I don’t know.”

“If you feel that you’re ready, you should,” Wren encouraged. “You said it yourself that your family misses you.”

“If I go, will you come with me?” he asked.

Wren stared at him. “For… for like, emotional support?” he asked. “As your emotional support omega?”

Sebastian laughed loudly. “Something like that. You make me feel stronger than I am.”

“Don’t talk down about yourself,” Wren said. 

Sebastian smiled down at him, before he laid down as well, and pulled Wren into his arms. The omega purred happily at the contact, and it made Sebastian’s heart swell. “Yes, for support,” he said, “but also, because I simply cannot bear the thought of us parting so quickly.”

“Mm, there’s that heat fever,” Wren laughed.

Sebastian caught his hand before it could touch his forehead, and he kissed it. “It’s not.”

“I know,” he said with a warm blush. “But I’ll go with you, if that’s what you want.”

“It won’t ruin your vacation?”

“No, a fucking bear trap ruined my vacation,” Wren laughed. “But I can’t be too upset. Had it not happened, I wouldn’t be here with you. I would be back at home, going through this alone. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t care if I go through heats alone. I don’t mind being alone. But this is, admittedly, much better than taking cold showers and getting myself off with no real satisfaction.”

Outside thunder rumbled and the rain continued to fall. He inhaled. “When the storm is done, and your heat, we’ll go and see my brothers.” Would they be mad? Would they be relieved? How much has changed in seventy years?

Wren could tell that Sebastian was nervous, maybe even a little afraid. He had come here to mourn, and had accidentally cut himself off from the world completely. He had grown so accustomed to being alone, to punishing himself, that any thought of change was frightening.

“I think they’re going to be thrilled to see you.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Sebastian,” Wren scolded, “you’re their brother. Have they not been trying to contact you for years?”

“Well, yes.”

“And I bet more than once, one of them almost found your cave.”

“They’ve come very close,” Sebastian admitted somewhat irritably. “I almost had to move once.”

“And you're emailing them, right?”

“Well, they email me,” he said, “especially Daniel. My youngest brother.”

“If they didn’t want to see you, they wouldn’t keep trying to find a way to see you,” Wren said. 

He exhaled and ran his hand up and down Wren’s back. “I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right.”

Now he laughed. He looked down at him. “What were you hoping to find when you came back here, Wren?”

“Honestly?”

“Please.”

“I was hoping I would find you.”

**END.**


End file.
